


Breathe Heavy, My Love

by piginapoketuesday



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fondling, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gay Sex, Hannibal is the tamest person in the room, Le Chiffre likes to hurt people but that's his thing we don't judge, Light Bondage, M/M, Nigel is having a fucking fantastic time, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Series, Power Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sassy!Will, Threesome - M/M/M, Will does not give one single fuck how many people these assclowns have murderered, Will takes control of his own sex life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginapoketuesday/pseuds/piginapoketuesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal shares Will with Le Chiffre and Nigel. This is shameless, violent sex. Enjoy!</p><p>Inspired by "Sharing is Caring", by Kipsi. I thought post-s3 Will needed a good fucking with these three :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sharing Is Caring](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277203) by [kipsi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kipsi/pseuds/kipsi). 



“Will, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine." 

Will Graham ran his palm over the polished wood of Hannibal’s desk. “Friends. Are they as cruel and well-read as you are?”

Hannibal smiled. “You know how I feel about cruelty as a general rule.”

Will glanced down at his hand and sighed good-naturedly, and then he looked back up into his partner’s face. “Then are they as chaotic as you are?”

“They’ve learned to raise a certain amount of Hell, yes.” That half-smirk made him look both less and more severe. “And yes, they are well-educated. Though not as well as me.”

“Naturally,” Will said, his sarcasm sharp enough to cut diamonds.

“Will, have you been enjoying our . . . sessions of late?”

The young professor laughed in the soft way he always did. “You’re referring to my ‘therapy’? The kind that leaves telling spots of wetness, and another bout of tender screaming for the walls to discuss in our absence?”

Hannibal swallowed.

Will’s chest warmed with that small proof of his position in their power play. It was so easy to make his lover ache. “Yes, Dr. Lecter. I’ve been enjoying your _therapy_.”

“Then,” Hannibal started, his voice lowered by lust, “perhaps you wouldn’t mind a few extra players in the game.”

Will lifted his head. “And in this game, am I at the table, or a shiny new card to play?”

“Does it matter if I’m betting on you?” Hannibal’s eyes were unyielding.

He smirked. “No need to avoid the question, Hannibal. Ask me to offer my body to your pack of lions, and I will do so enthusiastically.”

“Lions,” Hannibal repeated, testing the word, “I think they would appreciate that.”

“Do these lions have names?” Will asked, continuing to stroke the desktop, as the movement was a prime collector of Hannibal’s glances.

“Nigel and Le Chiffre,” he said, using every ounce of his resolve to not stare at Will’s lovely fingers.

Will smiled almost imperceptibly. “They sound good in your mouth.”

“I guarantee they will taste better in yours.”

Will felt his throat flush hotly. He knew the reddening was clearly visible; no sense hiding his arousal now. He stood from his desk chair and walked to stand behind Hannibal, where he leaned down and set his lips beneath the older man’s ear. “Yours is a difficult taste to beat, but you’ll remember, Dr. Lecter, I have a patient tongue.” He kissed gently at the temple and straightened to leave the room.

~

Hannibal Lecter lived a life of presentation, and as such, he was not one to offer guests an unwrapped gift. The joy in any good meal was uncovering the delights layer by layer, course by course.

Will was no exception.

“May I bind your wrists when they strip you?” Hannibal asked, taking Will’s hand and pushing back the suit sleeve to kiss the bared pulse point.

Will tried to breathe evenly, already riding the stimulated high of arousal. “Am I their pretty thing to fondle and abuse tonight?”

Hannibal laid his hand on Will’s cheek and stroked a thumb over his bottom lip. “You are my pretty thing, Will. They will do well to remember that.”

“Those who break your things never fair well,” Will said, bitterly. He was thinking of teacups and Abigail, of betrayed hearts and hook knives. Separately, his mind cringed at the idea of being owned in any real sense.

Disturbed by his love’s new tone, Hannibal recanted. “I don’t mean to imply you are my property. You are an entity all your own, but I don’t need to remind you of that."

“I am happy to share orbits with you, Hannibal. And you’re welcome to tie me.”

Hannibal swept a curl out of Will’s face. “Would you like to meet them?”

Will nodded.

~

Upon opening their bedroom door, Will took in the appearance of two men. One was relaxed, sitting casually on the bed with one foot on the duvet. His hair was shaggy and blonde, and his smooth blue shirt hung loosely from his chest. The other, a severe man in a tailored black suit, stood near the dresser. His hair was cropped and slicked back, and a deep scar carved his face from cheek to brow, leaving a filmy cataract over one eye.

“This is Mr. Graham, yes?” the severe one said to Hannibal, stepping forward. “Does he taste as tender as he looks?” Without warning, he gripped Will’s chin and kissed him, open-mouthed. He withdrew a moment later, leaving Will stunned and quiet. “Indeed he does. Le Chiffre. Pleasure.” He held out his hand.

Will took it and immediately pulled the taller man down to him again, forcing a kiss on him as well. “The pleasure is mine,” he said, breathily.

From the doorway, Hannibal smiled.

“Well aren’t you a fucking spitfire,” said the man from the bed, his thick accent spilling with belligerent confidence. He stood and joined the two men, then leaned too close to Will. “That’s one hell of a candy coating you’ve got there, darling, but if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to move on to suckling the cream from the center.”

“Pleasure to meet you, as well, Nigel,” Will said. His eyes were bright as he spread his arms wide. “What are you waiting for?”

Nigel and Le Chiffre locked eyes for an instant, and then they pounced.

Will’s suit jacket, vest, and dress shirt were torn unceremoniously from his body and left ruined on the floor by Nigel. Le Chiffre knelt and swiftly unzipped Will’s trousers and untied his shoes, pulling each item from its owner and depositing it neatly to the side. Once they had finished, Hannibal moved in to tie Will’s hands with a length of rope while his two friends shed their own clothing. The Chesapeake Ripper whispered in his lover’s ear, “I want to hear you begging to be eaten alive.”


	2. Chapter 2

“He wants you bound for us, hmm?” Nigel asked, lifting Will’s chin in mock gentleness. “A cocksucker who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Will smiled. “Perhaps my hands are talented and cruel, and he doesn’t intend to share.”

Le Chiffre sneered and drew two fingers across the scar on Will’s abdomen. “You know precious little of cruelty.”

“But violence,” Will said, lewdly eyeing the packages of the other two men, “Is what I understand.”

Hannibal’s mouth twitched up at the corner.

Nigel grabbed Will’s hair and forced him to his knees. He pressed the tip of his leaking cock to Will’s lips and smeared them with his pre cum. “Understand?”

Will looked pointedly into Nigel’s eyes and slowly parted his lips, letting the head slip through his teeth and over his tongue. He explored, tasting and laving, until Nigel massaged a warning thumb against the hollow of his throat.

“You’re not making love to your fucking boyfriend’s prick. Pleasure me, or I will fuck your mouth like the insolent cock slut you are.”

Will felt himself harden in his boxers and went to work on Nigel. He was vaguely aware of Le Chiffre kneeling down beside him.

“Let’s get a glimpse of the meat Hannibal’s been raving about.” He carefully pulled off Will’s boxers and stroked methodically over his cock. “I asked where his pretty slave’s tender spot was.” He rubbed deeply at the midpoint of the vein running the underside of Will’s member.

Will moaned, debauched and vulnerable, around Nigel’s length. He would kill Hannibal for divulging that secret to a stranger.

“That’s it,” Chiffre said, rubbing again, “How does it feel, knowing you can do very little to stop me? Not that you’d like to. Just a bit of pressure,” he smoothed the vein with his thumb, earning yet another muffled groan from Will, “And you unravel.”

“Be gentle with the boy,” Nigel said, running both hands roughly through Will’s hair as if his own body was retaliating against his words. “He’s a fragile little fucking teacup.”

Something about that inflection and those words made Will shiver. He was intimately familiar with that sentiment. Insulted, he scraped his teeth along the bottom of Nigel’s cock.

Nigel’s face took on a feral sneer. He pulled out of Will’s hot mouth and forced him, hand over throat, onto his back.

Hannibal flinched but did not move. The sentiments were real, but they were playing up the violence. He could see by his lover’s calm that he was not edging toward the safe word: ‘Theremin’, or two finger snaps, should his mouth be occupied at the time.

“Did anyone see that?” Nigel said, as if the room were full of hundreds of people who had all come to watch him perform. “Fucking cocksucker showed me his fucking teeth.” He held Will’s throat with bruising strength. “Do you get off on this? Hmm? Do you _fucking_ get off on this? Do you beg him to choke you? Beg to be his fucking little teacup and writhe beneath him?” The amusement in his voice had Will panting more than the asphyxiation.

Le Chiffre gaged that as the opportune moment to fondle the younger man’s tender spot again. He played idly with his own hard cock, making eye contact with the still fully clothed Hannibal.

Will kicked his legs out desperately, unable to breathe and touched so deftly between his open thighs.

“Have you had enough, Will? Ready to behave that pretty mouth?”

Gasping, Will managed a nod, and Nigel released him. He coughed and turned his head away to catch his breath.

Nigel fell to kissing the bruises blooming on Will’s neck, sucking and biting. Le Chiffre began a deep stroke of the young man’s painfully hard cock, taking care to continually torment the spot that left Will squirming.

Between bouts of blurry vision, Will noticed a thin stream of blood trickling from Le Chiffre’s eye.

“Nigel,” Will said, breathlessly, inhaling the musky scent of smoke and cologne from the man bursting capillaries in his throat. “There are other uses for my pretty mouth.”

Smiling against his neck, Nigel pulled Will into a kneeling position. He fingered the stubbled chin. “Come and sit on my lap, boy.”

“Now you’ve got us all curious,” Le Chiffre said. He moved to the dresser and picked up a bottle of lube, then returned to the floor behind Will. As their handsome plaything sat on Nigel’s legs, Chiffre ran a manicured hand down his back and over the curve of his ass.

Eyes bleary with lust, Will buried his face in Nigel’s neck, sucking shamelessly at the dark lines of his stripper tattoo. Every inch of warm flesh smelled like whiskey and cigarettes, and Will ached to trail his hands over the older man’s chest, wanting all of him at once.

Nigel tipped his head back, breathing heavily. He watched Hannibal from his place of lecherous pleasure and reached between himself and Will to stroke their cocks together, foreskin sliding wetly and swollen heads dripping against each other. Will moaned at the perfect moment. “Is he not a fucking delicious pet, Lecter? Eager and trembling, aren’t you darling?” He tried his own hand at Will’s swollen vein and earned an unholy sound and the grateful suck of a needy mouth over his Adam’s apple.

Hannibal swallowed and closed his eyes, feeling close to the edge despite not once having touched himself. “Will, you are a gorgeous sight,” he managed, sweating under his suit from the torment of simply watching.

Will Graham wanted nothing more than for his lover to join the party, but when he felt sure fingers against his hole, warm and wet, he couldn’t manage anything from his open mouth besides, “ _Please._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

Le Chiffre slowly worked Will open, one finger slipping past the ring of muscle, then two, feeling his insides clench tight around each knuckle. The desperate, carnal arching of the professor’s back did not escape Chiffre, who stopped moving his fingers and left them buried inside. “I didn’t take you for a whore, Mr. Graham,” he said darkly in Will’s ear. “Have you been bedding a whore, Hannibal?”

Hannibal promised himself the violent burn in his throat would pass if he held his tongue, so he stayed silent.

Nigel smiled viciously. “You didn’t take him for one? I know a cock slut the second I see one, and you, Will—” he swiped his fingers through their shared pre-cum and slipped them into Will’s hungry mouth, “—are fucking insatiable.”

Will moaned around the fingers and sucked them clean. When Nigel withdrew from his lips, he leaned in to the gangster’s ear. “And you,” he whispered, nibbling at Nigel’s jaw, “are dripping for me.”

Removing his fingers, Chiffre positioned his cock head at Will’s entrance. He clamped his hand over Will’s mouth and thrust.

Hannibal’s jaw flinched at Will’s muffled cry, his boxer briefs warm and wet beneath his black trousers. He watched as Chiffre fucked into his lover, staring at Will’s hands clenching and unclenching behind his back, at his eyes, lidded and swimming from the welcome pain of overstimulation. Fierce and virile as Will Graham was, Hannibal knew well he had no control over his own sensations. Every touch, every kiss; it consumed him. Receiving that sort of pleasure made him giving, eager to return the favor. Hannibal envied Nigel’s lips on his husband’s bruised neck, and Le Chiffre’s cock pounding into him, but he waited patiently. If Will wanted him, he would ask.

Nigel gripped Will’s bouncing shaft and stroked it with his own again, drawing a string of choked gasps from his covered mouth. “Lecter, I think our little cocksucker wants to come.” He massaged his own twitching head into Will’s tender spot and watched as the younger man’s eyes rolled back in his head, his chest heaved, and his Adam’s apple bobbed violently.

Le Chiffre released Will’s mouth and reached around to grip the base of his cock as he continued to fuck into his hole and up against his prostate. “Not yet,” he panted, “I want you begging.”

In his haze of lust, Will laughed. “I bet you do.”

Hannibal was entirely sure his growing spot of wetness had spread to his trousers.

Chiffre slowed to a teasing pace. “Hannibal, tell me, what is Mr. Graham’s most intimate fantasy?”

Will broke out into a cold sweat.

Licking his lips, Hannibal made a very quick decision. “That I tie him to my table and enjoy a four course meal between his thighs.”

Despite the warm flush coloring his neck, Will sighed inwardly. Though it was one of his fantasies, it was not the most intimate.

“Please go on, Dr. Lecter,” Le Chiffre encouraged.

“Each course served hot over his aching length, cream and sauces dripping. The careful pressure of silver knife and fork so near. Just a careless little slip, and the next bite is bloody on my tongue. Wine sipped from hipbones and suckled from a slick head. My breath, my lips so warm where he is most vulnerable. Tasted and cleaned in my mouth. Deliciously served.”

Hearing his desire in Hannibal’s words had Will close to the edge again. “Hannibal,” he moaned, breathing shallowly against Nigel’s cheek.

For the first time that night, Hannibal moved. He knelt by Will’s side, taken with how debauched his lover had become, fucked and stroked within an inch of his sanity. “Would my cunning boy like to come?”

The desperate sounds coming from Will’s throat made speaking difficult. “T-touch me.” His pleading eyes were not concerned with his impending pleasure, but rather with his desire to experience that pleasure with his lover. He wanted Hannibal to feel him in that state; see him ruined fully at last, not just by the two men working him over, but by Hannibal’s touch.

Realizing this, Hannibal reached out to caress Will’s scarred cheek. “Is this what you want, Will?”

Leaning in to the gentleness, his cock leaking into Nigel’s hand, he whined with shameless delight. “ _Yes._ ”

“Could we hasten the fucking love fest,” Nigel breathed, strengthening his grip and pumping with a clear goal in mind.

Le Chiffre followed, holding Will’s hips and bucking into him, feeling his own cock harden further. His nose and cheek were painted with half-dried trickles of blood. He whispered in Will’s ear, “ _You really aren’t going to say please, are you._ ”

Will tipped his head back, entirely undone, and forced himself to choke out, “ _I’ll say pretty please._ ”

Nigel pressed cruelly against his sensitive little vein and pulled his swollen balls away from his body.

Hannibal leaned in close to Will’s face and caressed his cheek. Their eyes, wild with lust, held contact.

“ _Pretty please_ ,” Will gasped, and Nigel pulled his fingers tightly up both of their cocks, while Le Chiffre gave a final thrust.

Hannibal caught Will’s open-mouthed cry with a kiss, tongue tracing tongue, absorbing the sounds of his pleasure.

The other men came within seconds, trembling and soaked in sweat.

“Fucking Christ,” Nigel said, low and heady against Will’s chest.

Will smiled hazily into Hannibal’s kiss, smelling wine and musky arousal at last. “I want to touch you,” he mumbled, trying to find his breath.

Hannibal wanted nothing else in the world. He pulled a razor from his jacket and sliced through the ropes binding his lover. “Touch me.”


End file.
